Monopoly Money
by aCommonLaw-ANON-fromLJ
Summary: AU! Wes Mitchell, youngest part-time detective, has been enrolled in a public high school, a place where he feels he doesn't belong. Travis Marks, one of the most popular kids in the school has been dared to date the loner of the century for amusement of the crowd, but unknowingly, falls for the mysterious boy. Warnings: Abuse; pre-slash to slash, no smut.


**A/N: Depending on how this chapter goes will decide if I will continue it. Enjoy!  
*****Got a review/question on the part-time detective thing and it would most likely be easier to address this right now :3. Part-time detective I guess you can think of like a consulting detective, somewhat like someone who will look at a scene, analyse, and give input if/when they can but does not actually need to be on scene at all times. Kinda' like a Sherlock Holmes (for those who are familiar) without the obsessive need to** **entertained at all times. Easily stated, it's a fictional job. Hope that clears it!**

AU! Wes Mitchell, youngest part-time detective, has been enrolled in a public high school, a place where he feels he doesn't belong. Travis Marks, one of the most popular kids in the school has been dared to date the loner of the century for amusement of the crowd, but unknowingly, falls for the mysterious boy.

Warnings: Abuse; pre-slash to slash, no smut.

Monopoly Money

Chapter 1

Wes Mitchell grumbled as he felt a crumpled ball of aluminum thwack the back of his head, but he didn't bother to turn around. He sat in the center of the lunch room, and a radius of nothing formed around him, as if his presence had killed off everyone around him. Wes had only attended the school for less than a week, but the student body had already decided how they would play him in their little world.

The outcast.

Though, isolated, he could always feel the eyes of the students at the "popular" table stare at him with curiosity. It made him feel uncomfortable as he unwrapped his sandwich, taking a bite into sticky peanut butter.

Food was immediately snatched from his fingertips, and waved above his head, and he stared up with a cold glare. "Give it back Owen." He grumbled.

"Didn't think the queer would pay enough attention to my name during role call." The taller boy snickered. "What, you into me now?"

Wes wasn't going to play his game. He uncapped his water bottle, taking a swig before that was swatted out of his hands and stood up to leave the radius. His shoulder was pulled back and his body was immediately swung around. A thick fist connected to the corner of his eye, and he fell over, pressing his hand gently to his face.

"Get away from him!" Another voice screamed throughout the mess.

Wes looked up, surprised to see the only decent face in the whole school. Alex had warmed up to him the second he entered class when no one else would. It seemed that the student body had enough respect for their president to not bring her down to the treatment they gave Wes, but that was just what everyone else feared. However, he did make a few acquaintances in his art class; the girls who knew Wes knew he wasn't the type to try and get under their skirts.

Owen immediately ceased his actions, and a few other teenagers from the in-crowd began to swarm through.

"I don't see why you defend him," Andrew bluntly proclaimed, hands crossed defensively across his chest.

"I heard he slept with the principal to get in cause other schools wouldn't accept him." Another one continued.

Alex made no comment to the levels of stupidity as she grabbed Wes softly by his arm and pulled him back up to his feet. "Travis call off your jerks."

"They're just having fun." Travis lied, trying to keep up a façade he held for so long. The only way to not be socially crushed was to make it to the top, and that was exactly what he did. But the glare Alex gave him made him bite back his tongue, and he quickly called off his boys.

"Let's get an ice-pack for that eye of yours." She whispered, but Wes pulled away the second he stood up.

"I don't need your pity." He spat, as he turned around, he jolted out of the cafeteria as quickly as he could.

"Hope you're proud of yourselves. Owen, office." Alex hissed as she pulled the larger boy by his forearm, not caring if her untrimmed fingernails cut his skin.

Travis felt a pang of guilt as high-fives were passed around by his boys. He half-heartedly returned each one and stared off to the exit where Wes had run off to, wondering what the boy could be doing. He looked down, seeing that the blonde teenager had forgotten his backpack at the lunch table. Travis picked up the loner's belongings and decided he could possibly return it when he sees the kid in their classes.

The bell rang and Travis continued to English, Art, and Math, three classes he would be able to see Wes in, and maybe even throw in a sly apology. Though, when he entered the classes, Wes was no where to be found. He glanced over to the corner during English, searched the sketching group of girls during art, and onto the teacher's desk during Math, but always nothing.

School had ended, and with two backpacks slung over his back, he muttered, "this is so stupid." Exiting through the backdoor as he always did, he was stunned to find Wes sitting on the staircase as if he was waiting for someone.

Travis approached unsteadily, sitting awkwardly next to the new student and handed the backpack over. "You forgot this in the lunchroom."

Wes nodded. "I know. I went to get it after lunch, but it wasn't there." He snatched his things back. "I assumed you took it."

"How did you _assume_ I took it?"

Wes looked up. "I saw the way you were watching me. You're not like the others."

"Huh," the other boy crossed his arms, "and how do you know that?"

"Being observant is part of my job."

"Your job?"

"Part-time detective."

"Right." Travis spoke flatly, unable to believe that a young man could already climb the ranks, a dream he also wanted. He uneasily began as his eyes skimmed the purpling shade over white skin, "Wes, I want to apologize."

"No you don't." Crystal blue eyes and thin pale lips responded with a simple glare and simple words. "You just want to get rid of the guilt; it's written all over your face." He sighed heavily, dismissing the topic, "excuse me, but I need to go get my sheet music."

"You play an instrument?" Travis asked as a conversation starter while he trailed along. He made a mental note to try and get back to the topic in the future. He defiantly didn't want to be a dick to a kid he didn't even know. Sure, he may have not been raised better than that, but a family he once stayed with did teach him to treat others the same way he would want to be treated.

Wes made a concise response and continued to stride as fast as he could down the empty halls, intentions: opposite of Travis's. "Yes I play." He huffed, as he made a sharp turn, backpack slung over one of his shoulders.

Travis panted lightly, almost tripping from the sudden turn as he entered. He was surprised at how fast Wes could move, despite how he continued to take hits from other students around him. "Can I listen?"

A small smirk formed at the corner of Wes's lips and his eyes snaked over as if familiar words had brought him into a new life. The blonde teen was growing amused. He knew, the first week he's been here, students had been secretly listened onto his piano playing, but none had ever approached him about it.

But maybe Travis was different.

"Possibly another time." Wes added with ease as he pulled his music folder from overhead. A pain in his shoulder snapped his attention, and he stumbled backwards, nearly scattering the sheets of paper in the process. However, Travis's quick wits and fast reflexes pushed him off his heels, and his hand wrapped gently around the other boy's wrists , helping to steady the other boy as he did.

Wes immediately blushed from the surprise contact, and he quickly nodded his head away with a thankful glint in his eyes, but made no verbal cues in mentioning it. He tucked the music into his backpack and swung it over his shoulder, and the two turned around, facing parts of the in-crowd.

"Travis, are you hanging out with that idiot now?" One of the girls asked with a sneer and a disgusted face.

"No, I wasn't hanging out-"

Or maybe he was just the same as everyone else.

Wes caught onto the defensive "no" in less than a second and he stepped into the conversation routinely. "Just happened to be in the same room." He responded dully, as he strode out. His foot stayed glued for a second as he turned his head around to peer at the awkward interactions between Travis and the crowd.

He mentally exhaled as he was able to read Travis's façade again, but his heart sank when he realized that if his classmate never admit it, then the façade would just be what it is.

Travis recognized the last look Wes gave him before the he walked out.

Disappointment.

*~CLCLCLCLCL~*

The next day came with ease and the sunlight shone brightly, cutting through the cloudless skies. The weather seemed to have been feeling more optimistic than ever. Travis slid out of his car and stretched his arms to the warm atmosphere before walking towards the school.

He saw Wes stride past him, still in a thin sweater and a scarf tightly around his neck, and he couldn't help but to try to reach out to him. Another apology attempt, maybe.

"Wes!" Travis called as the boy turned around. He winced back, seeing how the boy was sporting his bruise, but he managed to cough up a casual "good morning."

Wes just stared, backpack on one shoulder. He walked off, speaking, "you're early. Class doesn't start for at least another hour."

"Better to be early than late." Travis smiled, trailing behind the other boy as no one was there to watch them.

"Family problems keeping you away?" He puffed back a reply. "I understand."

"How did you-"

"Early to school, but always late to classes." Wes replied with disinterest. "School's an easy getaway, I know. It takes one to know one."

"Wes-"

"I'm going to play the piano before other students start to spy on me." Wes interrupted with mild expertise and cutting perception. "You may listen if you want, quietly." He filled, knowing that the question Travis would have asked was, Wes, are you okay? A question that even if he knew was coming, always caught him off guard. He'd choke on his own words, then his world would crumble before him.

He wasn't going to let that happen. He wasn't going to break down in front of anyone. At least, not again.

"You…", Travis bit back his comments. _He knows other students listen in on him? Dang, maybe he is a detective._ He's heard rumors of how well the mysterious boy could play, but he had never heard it first hand. There were many distasteful words because of Wes's talent, but Travis knew to render them off as being envious. There was one well known fact that held true about the newcomer's skills as a pianist; that on his first day, he had out played their current pianist who was internationally acclaimed.

Wes sat at his chair with perfect posture as they entered the music room. Fingers curved lightly at the keys, he played fine notes that strung together methodically, and the passion the blue eyed boy had for music became apparent. Each sound rang tastefully through Travis's senses, and he could not only hear, but also feel the air the song gave off.

One long, slow note ended the short piece, and Wes held down his hands flatly against the row of white keys.

Travis's mouth was left with his jaw hanging out and his heart beating fast. Words were flying through his head, but none seem to be the right ones to describe it. He was stunned. He closed his mouth and ran his hand behind his head, grinning, "Damn, that's good."

"You really think so?" Wes asked as he spun around to face Travis, his lips involuntarily forming a sheepish smile.

"Man. I. Am. Speechless."

"You can't make us believe this is another coincidence, Travis?" A girl Wes recognized to be Nicole spoke with spite. She entered with her fingers entwined with Andrew's, Owen and Bryant not too far behind.

Wes removed his music folder, stashed it into his cubby, and grabbed his backpack, while making his way to the pack of students. "I asked him to listen and to give me feedback." He defended, trying not to make a commotion.

"Well it sounded like shit." Nicole spat bluntly.

"I didn't ask you." He gritted back a reply.

He felt his scarf pulled forcefully by Andrew, and he was only centimeters away from the other teenager's nose.

"Has anyone ever taught you to speak to women with respect?" Andrew growled as he pulled Wes in close.

Wes turned his head with false confusion, giving Nicole a life blowing stare. "You're a woman? Since when?" He retreated defensively as the two were taken off guard at the comment, and slipped his neck out of his scarf.

"Wes, you're neck." Travis commented with concern as he saw new shades of purple and blue clasp around the slender skin.

Wes looked like a dear caught in headlights, and he wrapped his hands around his neck, hoping that it would conceal his injuries. Without looking back, he pushed through the students and ran out of the building as fast as he could.

Travis began to slowly come to terms with Wes's responses to how other students treated him. The moment he was able to speak to Wes, he had already felt a thick wall between them. Though, he only shrugged it off as nervousness.

Similarly to how Travis had begun his first day, he felt the need to create a defensive barrier around him, some kind of shield that would keep intruders away from his personal life, simply because he didn't want anyone to know. Some things were always meant to be kept secret… but how could a stranger possibly know without even becoming friends?

He pushed off on his heels when the other students were long gone after the school bell had run, and recalled what Wes had told him earlier.

_It takes one to know one._


End file.
